Buffy Returns to Washington
by Lancer47
Summary: Gibbs has a vampire problem. He really wishes he didn't.
1. Chapter 1

NCIS and BtVS

in a Fan Fiction Crossover

Buffy Returns to Washington

by

STFarnham

Lancer47

_Rating: T (PG-13)_

_Summary: Agent Gibbs has a vampire problem. He really wishes he didn't._

_Timeline: Current with NCIS 2005/2006 Season_

_This is a sequel to my story, Buffy Goes to Washington, and occurs a few months afterwards. It is not connected to A Murder in Norfolk._

_Author's Notes: I describe the area where Kentucky, West Virginia and Virginia meet as mostly unpopulated mountainous terrain, but I don't actually know if that's accurate. If it is full of suburbs and shopping centers, don't tell me._

Prologue

The NCIS van pulled up to a downscale neighborhood store, next to several cop cars and a coroner's hearse. Ziva and DiNozzo got out, held their badges up to the uniformed cops on duty, and ducked under the crime-scene tape to join Gibbs who had arrived just ahead of the van. They walked in carefully, making certain that no evidence was contaminated.

The senior detective walked over and introduced himself, "I'm Detective Sellars, are you the NCIS guys?"

"Yes. What've you got, Detective."

"Heh," said Tony, "I'll bet I know what your nickname is."

The detective pointedly ignored Tony and said, "The clerk was killed during an apparent robbery. After we started to process the crime scene we discovered that he was an active duty Marine Staff Sergeant, stationed at Quantico. Apparently working a second job. So we packed up our CSI guys and called you." He turned to grab a large canvas sack which he handed to Tony, "Here is everything we collected, including some Compact Flash cards from our cameras; I'd like those back when you're through with them."

"Thanks, you guys are certainly being cooperative."

"Yeah, I only have eight active murder cases to handle, I'm really broke up about having to hand this one to you."

"I can tell," said Tony, "anything interesting in here?"

"The security camera caught most of the action. I only took a quick look, but there was a girl here, at the time of the murder, whose actions are, well, a bit out of the ordinary. I'm pretty sure she was just in the right place at the wrong time, but, well, you'll see. Looks like a pretty good image of the perp, for all the good it'll do you."

The county coroner had already declared the clerk dead, so they went ahead a bagged the body and put him in the NCIS van. It took another couple of hours before they were ready to head back.

--- ---

Abbey danced in front of her monitors while watching the crime scene tapes, occasionally taking notes, interspersed with humming and twirling. Her short skirt made her twirls arresting. She had digitized the tape and was analyzing it almost frame by frame after enhancing all the frames overnight. From time to time as she viewed the ultra slow-motion playback, she printing out several copies of particularly good frames on her photographic quality inkjet printer.

"What have you got for me Abbey," yelled Gibbs over the music, "can we call the case closed?"

Abbey jumped, squeaking in surprise. Her spiked steel wrist bracelets clanked as she waved her hands, "GIBBS! Geez, do you have to sneak up on me like that?"

"Yes."

"Oh, well, that makes it all right then," she said, turning back to her monitors. "Now look at these prints, they're illuminating. I predict that you're not gonna like it."

She picked up the stills and started to explain,

"OK,

(1) here's the clerk,

(2) here's the customer,

(3) here's the killer,

(4) here's where he leaned over the counter and fatally stabbed Staff Sergeant McNulty in the chest, WITH HIS FINGERS! Then he leaned over the counter and bit him on the neck!

(5) Here's the girl, at half the weight of the now dead Staff Sergeant, ATTACKING THE MURDERER!

(6) The perp flies backward out of the view of the camera and the girl follows, pulling some sort of knife out of her sleeve. I'm still trying to enhance those frames but the resolution is just overwhelmed by the speed of the action; there's nothing here but blurry pixels.

(7) I have no idea what happened here, since the action is now off screen, but there is a little dust cloud over on the right. It's gone five frames later.

(8) Here's the girl back in the picture, picking up her goods. She sets down her supplies, mostly food, on the counter and gets her purse out of her pocket. It's really small, more of a man's wallet than purse, I'd say.

(9) Here she is counting out her money, after slowly adding up the cost. She even painfully calculates and adds the tax. Finally, she puts the money on the counter. Then she picks up the phone, calls 911, then leaves.

But Gibbs, there is no sign of the killer from this point on the tape until the police arrive and remove the tape. And judging from the crime scene photos, it shouldn't be possible for someone to get from the back of the store to the front without being seen by this camera. So he had to get out another way, but I didn't see another way. Do you see the problem here?"

Gibbs shook his head mournfully as he viewed the tape forward and back, pausing here and there. He finally picked up the still prints and left.

--- ---

Dawn Summers had arrived in Washington the day before, slept fitfully, and spent the morning shopping. It was a gorgeous late spring day; she was delighted that it wasn't hot yet, but the hint of summer-swamp-gas to come was in the air. She was sitting at an outside café, drinking a latte with biscotti and catching up on the news with the Washington Post.

Willow walked up and sat down, "Hello Dawnie, I'm not late, am I? How was your trip?" she leaned over and they hugged briefly.

"The trip was fine, and I'm early. This is an unusually fine day for spring time in Washington, isn't it?"

"Yes indeed. Well, are you ready for this?" Willow asked, with a hint of worry.

"Sure, after all, it's just another Slayer. I have a lifetimes experience dealing with them."

"Yeah, but Dawnie, this one is feral. As far as any of us can tell, she lives like a wild animal in the woods somewhere. It could be dangerous."

"So how came we haven't found her before now?" Dawn asked, a little pointedly.

"We've tried, several times. She must have highly attuned senses because she always starts moving away just as any of our Slayers senses her. Every time we started to move enough people into the area to trap her, something else even more important came along to distract us. But this time, we are determined to find her. The world seems fairly quiet on the demonic front, there are no worrying portents about, no impending apocalypses on the horizon, and all known Slayers are all happily doing their slayage duty, except this one."

"So what's the plan Obi-Will-Kenobi, can you help her?"

"You've really been hanging around Andrew too much. And anyway, doesn't Dawn rhyme better than Will?"

"Obi-Dawn-Kenobi? Oooh! I like it! I can screw with Andrew's head. Why didn't I think of that before?"

"Because you live on _this_ planet," said Willow as she tapped the ground with her foot.

"Oh, heh!" laughed Dawn.

Willow said, "So, to get back on topic, the plan is to use our Slayers to sort of herd her to you and me. Buffy doesn't want her fighting other Slayers, if at all possible, so I am prepared to magically restrain her. But I don't mind telling you Dawn, I'm worried about this use of magic, even though the _Witches of Westbury_ have spent quite a lot of time preparing me."

"Are you sure you're ready?"

"As ready as I can be, but if either of us can talk sense into her without needing magic, it would be better all around. Assuming we can figure out a way to meet her."

--- ---

Tony DiNozzo got out of the NCIS crime scene van and stretched luxuriously. Ziva, getting out on the passenger side, scanned the area alertly. Tony wandered around to the back and opened the door. "Dr. Mallard, wake up, we're here!"

The doctor was stretched out on the gurney, snoring away. At Tony's shout he woke up and said, "Stop shouting, I can hear you fine."

The three walked over to the trailhead. They could see Gibbs a hundred yards up the trail with several park rangers. They were all looking up a cliff, gesturing at something.

"Any bets," asked Tony, "on where the body is?"

"No bet. It's gonna be a hard climb," sighed Ducky, "for you. I don't believe I'm up for any vertical traverses."

Eventually it all got sorted out. The Park Rangers conjured up a climbing team, who set up a sort of block and tackle arrangement on top of the cliff (after photographing the area and finding a little evidence that someone had been up there).

As Tony strapped himself into his borrowed climbing harness he said, "I hope you have a head for heights Ziva, this is a sport that separates the men from the boys!"

Ziva expertly tightened the straps around her waist and shoulders and replied, "How about the women from the boys?"

One climber preceded the agents and was waiting near the ledge to help belay their lines. The other climbers handled the lines from the top and Tony and Ziva just leaned back and walked up the cliff, all under the watchful eye of Dr. Mallard and Gibbs. The other rangers had wandered off and were watching some birds splashing in a pond.

Ziva signaled a stop and walked herself sideways just below the ledge to the body. She seemed perfectly comfortable with a hundred feet of air below her, dangling on two lines. "Tony," she said, "there's some blood above, and a bit of dangling flesh, I think."

Tony glanced nervously down and looked distinctly ill. But he shook his head and looked up, got his camera out and started snapping pictures. He said, "So, uh, what do think? How'd he get here?"

Ziva gazed skyward, and held her thumb out like an artist, and gaged the angle of the rock above. She finally said, "He was thrown from the top. No question." She looked down and saw something on the body. "Huh, what's this?" She fished out a specimen stick and prodded the corpses mouth open. "He's got a toad in his mouth."

"The phrase Ziva, is _frog in your throat_."

"I don't know what you're talking about Tony, but that is unquestionably a toad, not a frog, and it never made it down his throat."

"Oh," said Tony, "you mean he really has rodent stuck down his mouth?"

"Not a rodent, you idiot, a toad. Amphibian, I think. Except toads are desert dwellers, not amphibious, oh, now you've got me confused."

"Is it a horny toad?"

"Geez Tony, dangling up in the air, looking at corpses and toads, and STILL all you think about is sex?"

"No, no, Ziva, a horny toad is a specific type, indigenous to this area."

"That sounds like a chicken and cow story to me."

"You mean a cock and bull story."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." She turned to the climber still crouched on the ledge off to their left and said, "OK, you can pack up and lower him down. We're done here."

"Hey," said Tony, "I'm the senior agent here, I'm the one to say we're ready."

"OK Tony, say it."

"We're done."

Eventually everyone including the corpse, made it to the ground in one piece. Dr. Mallard did a quick inspection before packing him up for delivery to his lab.

"So Ducky, what do you make of this wound?" asked Gibbs.

"Hmm, it would appear to be an animal bite. Unfortunately, there are several anomalies. One, any animal with canines this far apart would also tear out quite a bit of flesh. Second, there is very little blood, either at the scene, or in the body. Even if he was killed elsewhere and dumped up on that cliff ledge somehow, that still doesn't account for the lack of blood on the body."

--- ---

William T. Conner, the conductor of a Norfolk Southern northbound mixed-freight train,

grumbled about being behind schedule as he filled out his paperwork at the conductor's desk on the left side of the locomotive cab.

Sam Wheaton, the train's engineer, thought he saw something on the rails ahead. He intently studied the view. After a few seconds, he said, "Bill, there's something on the track ahead that don't belong," and he immediately hit the brakes and simultaneously pulled the speed selector back to neutral. He had been at full throttle going up a slight grade at 35 MPH. He still couldn't quite see what the object was, the mottled shadows from the waving trees obscured his vision. "Bill, we're gonna hit it, whatever the hell it is it's too damn close, good thing it's small. We'll prolly be down to ten, maybe fifteen miles per hour." He set every brake system he had to full emergency stop. But he knew it was to no avail.

"Oh my god!" the conductor exclaimed a few moments later from his seat on the left side, studying the object intently through his binoculars, "it's a man, that's his leg over the rail!"

Sam pushed at the brake levers again, but they were already full on; with his left hand sounding the horn continuously, there was nothing left for him to do but wait for the train to gradually slow to a stop, except pick up the radio and call dispatch. Dispatch called the Norfolk Southern Police Department. As the train slowed through fifteen MPH, the conductor could clearly make out details of the man as he passed out of view under the wide front hood of the locomotive. He could have leaned out his side window to watch the front wheels sever the leg, but he wasn't up for that kind of sight.

"Well hell," he said quietly, "he's a Navy Lieutenant."

The young brakeman, sitting behind the conductor, had his whole torso practically hanging out the side window. A few seconds later he pulled back in and said, "Whoah, that was gross! But I think that guy was already dead! He didn't even twitch, except, you know, when the wheels hit him."

Conner looked at his watch and wrote in his notebook: _6:17 AM, Hit man on lying track, severed leg_.

"Well Bud, go on up to the front porch and get ready to jump, but not before I tell you, not until we're going slow enough so you don't break your fool neck. Take the first aid kit with you and check him out."

"Hey cappy, if he wasn't a corpse before, he is now," he replied with major attitude.

The conductor turned around and gave him the look, the one that said _Don't give me any shit!_ The brakeman gulped, nodded, and squeezed through the center door to the front of the locomotive with the first-aid kit in his hand.

--- ---

Dr. Mallard walked into his lab and began preparing for an autopsy of yesterday's find.

The door slammed open and Gibbs poked his head in and said urgently, "Ducky! Saddle up, we're goin' in the field again!" and was gone.

"Damn," swore Ducky, "three days in a row Mr. Palmer, what rotten luck, I'd so much rather stay here and cut up dead bodies." He took off his lab coat and grabbed his field kit and went to the garage, grumbling all the way.

Ziva was heading for the driver's side when Tony cut her off. "No way Ziva, you aren't driving the wagon while I'm on board!"

Ziva frowned as she got in the passenger side. As they pulled out of the garage, Ziva asked, "What is this NSPD Agent that we're meeting?"

"Norfolk Southern Police Department."

"What's that? A suburb of Norfolk? I thought we were going to someplace in northern Virginia, a railroad accident."

"No, no Ziva. Norfolk Southern is the name of the railroad. The NSPD is their police department."

"Are you joking?" she asked.

"No. I'd go into a long history of the Railroad Police, if I knew it. But luckily for you, I don't. You can think of them as an obscure Federal agency, sort of like us except for railroads instead of ships."

"Well that sounds very strange to me."

--- ---

Willow and Dawn drove through Fredricksburg, Virginia at seven in the morning. Dawn drove while Willow tried to use a magically enhanced compass to triangulate the location of their errant Slayer. She had her map marked with the current locations of three Slayers, plus her best guess of the unknown Slayer. They drove through a small town, past a well-maintained old courthouse, a bunch of historic buildings, bumped over some train tracks, and found themselves following a small river on a winding dirt road. Railroad tracks occupied the other side of the rushing stream.

Willow was decidedly delighted with the chirping and chittering of the birds and squirrels. She felt her connection with the Earth giving her a real buzz, what with Spring signaling the resurgence of life. They heard the horn of a train ahead of them, a long blast, a short, and a very long blast. A few minutes later a rumbling black freight train appeared, three big engines pulling an endless line of auto-racks loaded with Toyota's. Willow didn't pay much attention to the train, but as they passed it, her location charm went haywire, pointed to the middle of the train, and followed it. Then it started spinning in circles. Willow shook it experimentally, but now it just wanted to point North. "Damn," she said, "I think that train somehow interfered with my spell."

"How could that be Will," asked Dawn, "vibrations or something?"

"No, I don't think so. Oh heck, you know what?"

"What?"

"Our Slayer must be on that train. Hitchhiking, I bet. Maybe she's not as feral as we've been thinking!"

Dawn frantically looked for a place to turn around, but the road was too narrow. A mile past the end of the train, she finally found a turnout and whipped the car around in a tight circle. She started to race back.

Willow shook her head, "Don't bother Dawn. She's already jumped off. We need to find a quiet place to stop so I can renew this finder charm."

--- ---

Somewhere between Fredericksburg and Richmond, Tony found the turnoff. Actually, it was pretty easy to find since there was a cop parked there. The cop started to wave them off, but then saw the lettering on the side, and signaled them in. Ziva gave a friendly nod to the cop as they rolled past. Tony drove carefully down an ever-narrowing dirt track until they could go no further. They parked next to Gibb's car, two NSPD cars, an NS Supervisor car, and another cop car.

Ziva knocked on the divider door to the rear, "Ducky, we're here!" The three of them stretched and prepared for a hike.

"Damn," said Dr. Mallard, "I'm really not cut out for these hikes in the woods. How do I get into these situations?" Turning to the uniformed cop on duty, he asked, "How far is it, officer?"

"Welllll, aboot a mile, I'd guess. Easy walk though. Watch out fer the rattlesnakes. Them critters will kill ya fer sure."

As they walked down the trail, Ziva turned to Tony and asked, "Do they really have rattlesnakes here?"

"Naw, he was just messing with your head. This isn't rattlesnake country, the water moccasins drove them off. They're about twice as lethal."

Ziva glared at Tony, certain he was lying about something, but uncertain enough to maintain a high level of alertness, just in case. At least it was an easy hike. Less than fifteen minutes later they reached the tracks at the front end of long train. The train crew was sitting disconsolately around an idling locomotive, talking to an NSPD Special Agent and a Norfolk Southern manager.

The agent looked up sharply when he heard the newcomers. He held up his hand, until Ziva identified them as NCIS. He nodded and pointed down the tracks.

Ducky said, "Hell, another half-mile to go." Near the end of the train, Ducky found McGee inspecting under the cars.

"Hi Dr. Mallard. Here's the right leg. It was severed at the engine, got pushed around for most of the length of the train before finally getting caught on a dangling air hose. I took pictures, is there any reason I shouldn't move it?"

Ducky looked, snapped a few more shots, and said, "Go ahead." When Ducky finally made it to the corpse, he found a quietly angry Jethro Gibbs.

"What do we have here, Jethro?"

"It's just like the last two. Look at the neck."

The doctor set about examining the victim, the biggest piece anyway. He casually stabbed his thermometer into the corpse's liver. He took plenty of pictures and bagged bits and pieces of this and that. Finally, he said, "My guess, he died between three and six AM, this morning. He's lost a great deal of blood, but little of it is in evidence here. I wish I had done the other autopsies already, but there's nothing to be done about that. In my professional opinion, he was tossed from the top of a moving train, judging by the marks in the ground, and assuming that these footprints are those of the train crew that found him. He was dead or nearly so when he hit the ground."

The railroad manager came up to Gibbs and asked, "Can we move the train yet? We've got trains waiting in Richmond now, and we can't get back on schedule until this one backs down far enough to find a spot flat enough to get moving up the grade again."

"No, we aren't done yet. I'll tell you when it's OK." The manager went away muttering imprecations to himself.

--- ---

Willow and Dawn sat on a blanket by the river. They had found an ideal place to stop. Willow chanted in an ancient language over what looked like an ordinary backpacker's compass. But after a few minutes, the needle suddenly went nuts, spinning around, stopping, starting, moving jerkily. Until it finally settled in a direction that was decidedly not north.

"Well, that's weird," said Willow, "our quarry seems headed back down the tracks. Call Anna and tell her to drive south for a mile or so. Have Jeri go to the river directly behind us. And get Kennedy ahead of us, about a quarter mile from the river, on the other side."

Dawn faithfully translated those directions into course changes for the Slayers, and transmitted those orders by cell phone.

"I think we'll all be on foot soon, Dawnie. Are you up for a run through the forest?"

"No. I've got a better idea Will, let's let the Slayers run themselves ragged. Then we'll saunter up behind them after they've caught their shy sister."

"That sounds like a plan."

--- ---

Gibbs said with a sigh, "It's Lt. (jg) Raphaelson, newly appointed to the USS Truxtun, DDG 103."

"Damn," said Tony, "didn't even get to go on his shakedown cruise. He must have been riding high, then to have this happen..."

Ducky shook his head, "For a naval officer to die this far from the ocean — very sad indeed."

Gibbs looked at Ducky and, "I'm done here."

The railroad manager asked, "I can release the train?"

Gibb said, "I need to talk to the crew first, just a couple more questions, then you can move it."

"Thank you!"

Gibbs addressed the group, "Are we in agreement that the victim was probably thrown from the train in front of this one? And there could not have been any intervening trains, given the testimony of the crew of this train?"

Nods all around.

"OK, can one of you Railroad Agents find out which train was in front of this one, and arrange to stop it somewhere ahead?"

The RR Agents nodded yes.

Gibbs said to the muttering manager, "You can park it on a siding or something, it's not necessary to block the main track. And I doubt it will take long for us to check it out."

Several shouts came from the front of the train. Gibbs looked towards the commotion and saw a wild-looking girl running through the trees, having just knocked down two or three of the people standing around the locomotive. DiNozzo heard someone running from the other side side of the train, stepped around the end car and was astonished to see a beautiful young woman, dressed to kill in an expensive white track suit, leaping gracefully over some low rocks, charging towards the middle of the train. She didn't even slow down when she got to the train and jumped from the ground to the roof of a boxcar. She stopped and looked around, then leaped off and ran after the other girl. They both disappeared into the woods.

Gibbs wanted to run after them, but he saw that it would be impossible; he couldn't possibly run that fast. In fact, he thought darkly, _no_ one could run that fast. "Ducky," Gibbs asked, "can you and McGee transport the body back to the van?"

The doctor nodded.

"DiNozzo, let's go." Gibbs turned and hiked back to the front of the train to talk to the crew. The railroad police followed. Just as he got to the front, two more young women showed up, a redhead and a brunet. These two were out of breath, Gibbs noticed -- they weren't in the same athletic class as the others.

"Hi," said redhead with a smile, "my name is Willow. By any chance, did you see a young woman running through here? We really need to find her."

Gibbs glared, "No." Willow's face fell. "But I saw two young women run through here like they were cheetahs. Just what is going on here?"

Yet another young woman showed up, crashing through some underbrush from Gibb's left.

He looked up in irritation and said, "Who the hell are you?"

"Hi y'all," said a cheerful brunette, "I'm Fred!"

Willow frowned at her and asked, "Fred? Why are you here?"

Dawn smiled briefly at Fred and said, "She probably got tired of waiting for us to come back to the car."

"The car?" asked Willow, "oh! The car, yes."

Gibbs was irritated. He looked back and saw that McGee and Ducky had taken the body and were bushwhacking cross-country to the trail. He turned to the conductor and said, "You're good to go."

The conductor herded his crew aboard the train after a brief conference with the supervisors. The railroad police and supervisors left. Pretty soon, it was just Gibbs, DiNozzo, and three young women, standing quietly near the tracks, watching the train back down the rails. Much to Gibbs amazement, two more young women joined them.

"Hey Jeri, Anna. Any luck?" asked Willow.

"No, where's Kennedy?" asked Jeri.

"She's off making like a gazelle, according to Inspector Gibbs, here," said Willow.

"That's NCIS Special Agent Gibbs. And I still want to know what the hell is going on here."

"NCIS? What's that?" asked Dawn.

"Naval Criminal Investigative Service. We investigate crime involving Naval property and personnel.

"This isn't your jurisdiction, is it? I mean, I don't see any water or ships anywhere nearby."

Willow looked around the clearing. The only sign of civilization was the train track. The rest was trees, bushes, birds, insects, leaves and flowers bursting joyfully open in the sun, the whole nature in spring thing. It was all Willow could do to keep her feet on the ground.

"Finding a dead Navy Lieutenant nearby is all the justification I need to be here."

Anna and Jeri swiveled their heads simultaneously to look up the trail. "Kennedy is back," said Anna. And sure enough, a moment later she stepped out of the woods and into the clearing. All the girls looked at each other and nodded negatively, without saying a word.

"Damn," said Willow, "I thought we'd find her this time."

Gibbs frowned thoughtfully and pulled a picture of the mystery girl in the 7-11 store out of his jacket pocket. "Do any of you recognize this girl?"

They all looked at the picture. Most said no, but Kennedy said, "That could be our missing girl. But I didn't get a really good look at her."

"You mean," Gibbs exclaimed forcefully, "none of you have ever met this girl you're chasing? This is starting to sound suspicious as hell. I had better get a believable explanation, and soon, or I will arrest all of you."

"For what?"

"How about attempted kidnapping? Or interfering with a crime scene? Trespassing on railroad property. Jumping on a train stopped in the woods. I'm sure I can think of more."

"Hey fella! We're just walking through the woods, looking to help a girl we heard about. We're not gonna kidnap her! We're not gonna do anything but talk! So get out of my face!" Willow said, getting exercised.

Fred said, "Mind your own business, lower being!" Gibbs looked at her in surprise.

The group continued to argue. Time passed. Suddenly, the three Slayers all turned as one and stared intently. The others noticed and stopped arguing. Shortly, all heard something large crashing through the woods. Fred grabbed Gibbs and yanked him back into the underbrush.

"What the hell are you doing?" yelled Gibbs.

"I am protecting you according to the dictates of my guide, even though I deem you as not worthy." said Fred/Illyria, leaving Gibbs with more questions than answers.

Back in the clearing, a nine foot tall yellowish-green scaled multi-headed creature with bony crests and many fangs burst out of the thick verdure.

Dawn yelled, "That's a Groenwalds Demon! It takes complete removal of the heart or quartering to kill it!" This last was shouted to the Slayers who had leapt into battle.

Only Anna had a sword, the others had knives. Gibbs was horrified at the sounds of battle that he could not see. He tried to wrest himself free of Illyria's grip, but couldn't.

He shouted, "Let go of me so I can do my job!" Gibbs was distracted by Willow pulling a sword out from under her jacket. She apparently had it strapped diagonally across her back. She ran ran out of his sight, shouting, "Kennedy, sword!" and tossed it in her general direction. Kennedy jumped into the air and caught the sword. She cut around in a wide arc on her way down and cut off one of the demon's heads, which didn't even slow it down. The other head fell dead by Anna's sword, but the damned thing kept fighting.

The train, which had found a flat spot just a mile down the track, had managed to get going the right way and was passing by just as the wild slayer arrived in the clearing. She took one look at the situation and jumped up on the demon's tail, took two steps up the back and swung her sword right through the spine and torso. The demon felt that, and fell dead moments later.

On board the locomotive, the brakeman and conductor had both rushed out the back of the cab and were standing on the side catwalk watching the battle in open mouthed astonishment. The engineer divided his attention between the front view and side view. He didn't want to stop, because that would require backing down again and would be terribly embarrassing to explain. His speed was just barely fast enough to make it to the crest of the grade, any slowing at all would be too slow. They rounded a curve and the train blocked all further view of the battle. They all got back to their seats.

Conner asked, "Uh, did you see that? Cheerleaders fighting a big green monster?"

"I saw it, but I'll never tell anyone about it."

"Nope, that didn't happen, couldn't have. Hallucinations. Crazy talk."

"Somebody must have been making a movie."

"Oh yeah, that had to be it."

"No other explanation, really. Musta been a student film, like that witch thing a few years ago."

"Sure, of course."

"You betcha."

"Man, those new digital cameras they use these days are really small!"

--- ---

Back in the clearing, Anna shouted, "Let's get this thing hidden!"

"Uh, Anna?" asked Dawn, "How?"

"We'll toss it in that ditch and brush leaves over it. Lots and lots of leaves." Anna picked up one end and the wild child picked up the other and they tossed it into the ditch. The other slayers chucked the other pieces of the demon after it and they all brushed huge piles of leaves over the carcass.

"Wow," said Willow, "now it hardly looks like a big demon fight went on, if it wasn't for the gallons of green blood sprayed all over creation."

As Kennedy prodded one of the dead monster's heads with her toe and pushed it into the ditch, she asked "What the hell was that?"

Dawn answered, "I told you, it was a Groenwald's Demons. Think of it as a big lizard, dangerous, a bit more lizardy than demony. You know, like the Monitor Lizards on Easter Island. Its bite is like a Monitor's also; it festers and kills you a couple of days later."

"They don't have Monitor Lizards on Easter Island," said Willow.

"Yeah, well, some island somewhere has them."

Meanwhile, the feral Slayer was looking around furtively and started to back into the brush. The others noticed and kept her from running.

Dawn said, "Hey, we want to talk to you. And more importantly, you need to talk to us. We can help you."

The girl stopped trying to disappear and looked at Dawn. The other girls surrounded her. At that moment, Gibbs came crashing back into the clearing with an irritated Fred following behind.

"Hey!" shouted Gibbs, "I want to talk to you!" He looked down as his feet slipped in something and added, "What the hell is this green crap?" He looked around and he frowned as he took in the splatters of green blood, the casually wielded swords and generally disheveled appearance of the girls. The new girl started to bolt when Gibbs appeared, but Anna and Kennedy grasped her arms firmly.

Willow said, "Why don't we all sit down, just sit, and, you know, talk?" she looked down at the pools and splatters of green ichor and continued, "but not here, back there, where it's drier."

They all moved out of the clearing to a smaller and more comfortable spot. The swords started disappearing. Jeri shrugged her backpack to the ground and offered clean rags and food all around. The wild slayer grabbed a sandwich and messily gobbled it down. The other Slayers also grabbed for food and were hardly any more mannerly. Gibbs frowned at them all.

Dawn said to the newest slayer, "I'm Dawn, this is Kennedy, Anna, Jeri, Willow, Fred, and Agent Gibbs. What's your name?"

Gibbs suddenly thought of something and pulled a radio out of his jacket. Ignoring everyone, he clicked his radio and said into it, "Ziva! Are you back at the van with everyone?"

The radio crackled a little and Ziva answered, "Yeah Gibbs, everyone except DiNozzo."

"OK, you and McGee go with the Railroad Agents and find that train they're holding for us. Ducky, you can head back to the ranch." He clicked the radio a couple of times and then asked, "DiNozzo! Where the hell are you?"

The radio crackled back to Gibbs, "Uh, I'm here in the woods boss."

"Where in the woods?"

"Well, uh, north of the rails."

"DiNozzo," Gibbs answered as if to a six-year old child, "the rails run north and south, how can you be north of them?"

"Well really they run sort of north-by-northeast, and I guess I must be a little north and mostly west of them."

"DiNOZZO! Get your butt over here!"

"Uh, where's here?" he queried.

"You're lost, aren't you?"

"No, no, I'm not lost. I'm just temporarily not certain of where I am in spacial relationship to you."

Gibbs could hear some crashing and cursing coming over the radio. Kennedy's head was cocked sideways as she listened to something only she could hear.

She said, "If you want, I'll go get him."

"No, that's quite all right..." said Gibbs. But he trailed off in thought and changed his mind, "Wait, that's a good idea. Go ahead." She took off into the woods. The feral slayer looked longingly after her.

Gibbs asked the group, "DiNozzo won't get lucky or anything when Kennedy finds him, will he?"

The others laughed and Willow said, "No, Kennedy is my girlfriend."

Gibbs smiled appreciatively. The new girl raised her eyebrows and looked at Willow in surprise.

Dawn said, "So, you never did tell us your name."

The new girl looked trapped. She looked down, and around, and brushed her straggly hair out of her eyes. Her freckled face looked at home here in the Appalachian forest. She was painfully thin and dirty, and in dire need of fingernail clippers, a hairbrush, and new clothes, but her teeth were perfect.

Gibbs looked at her thoughtfully and decided she must be about sixteen, even though she looked younger.

Finally she said, so softly that only those with Slayer hearing were certain, "Emily."

"Emily?" Gibbs asked.

She nodded.

Dawn said, "Look Agent Gibbs, why don't you go away and let us talk to Emily?"

"I'm not going anywhere until I have some answers. And I want to take Emily back for further questioning."

Emily looked frightened and all the other girls glared at Gibbs.

Willow said, "We won't let you take her. You can just forget about that."

Emily looked relieved.

There was a sudden commotion from the woods and everyone could hear DiNozzo shouting, "Hey! Let go of me! Goddammit! You bitch!"

A few moments later Tony stumbled into the middle of the group, tripped and fell beside Willow. He sat up, gathered what dignity he could, and said calmly, "Hey boss."

Kennedy stalked into view and said unnecessarily, "I found him."

Gibbs smiled at her, "Thanks. You ever think about law enforcement as a career?"

"No," she answered flatly. She sat down next to Willow and patted her knee.

Willow said, "Well Agent Gibbs, this is where it starts to get weird. So I really think you should leave now."

"_Starts_ to get weird? You're kidding, right? Anyway, I'm not going anywhere. Especially since you've made it clear that I really don't have a reason to take Emily into custody. I can interview her right here, though, that should work."

Emily got that trapped look again. Dawn sat down next to her and said, "Don't worry about him, we won't let him do anything but talk and ask questions. None of us are lawyers, but we have had lectures on how to deal with cops, so we will look out for your interests. And the first thing is, don't answer any question that you don't feel comfortable answering. And if you do feel like answering a question, think it through first."

Gibbs glared at Dawn and said, "All right Emily, first would you tell me your full name please?"

"No."

"Ahh, OK, then please tell me what happened at the convenience store, three nights ago."

"Monster. Killed it." The other Slayers high-fived each other and flashed thumbs-up signs. "Too late for the clerk though," she added quietly.

"And the train today?"

"Another monster, killed it," she paused and said sadly, "I was too late to save the policeman."

"What policeman?" asked Gibbs.

"The one who was thrown from the train. I saw him running through the woods. At first I was afraid of him, thought he was after me. Then I saw he was being chased by a monster. He was able to get on a slow moving train, the monster followed, I followed. Monster killed man. I killed monster. If I had been faster I could have saved him."

"Well, first, he was a Naval Officer, not a policeman. But it probably doesn't matter. You did try to help him, and that matters," Gibbs said quietly.

"The monster was a policeman also," Emily added as an afterthought.

"What? They were both Naval Officers?" exclaimed Gibbs.

"I guess."

"This may be a stupid question, but where did you leave the body?"

"No body, dust," said Emily.

Gibbs skillfully and quietly interrogated Emily for another hour and eventually decided he had everything that she knew. "Let's go DiNozzo, lets leave these young women to their business, because it isn't our business any more," he paused and then slowly added, "I sincerely hope."

--- ---

"So," said Willow after Gibbs and DiNozzo had left, "what's your story Emily? Why are you hiding out in the woods? We know you're a Slayer, like these girls here. Have you been having the dreams?"

"What's a Slayer?" she asked, "and how did you know about my dreams?"

"You are a Slayer, Emily," said Kennedy, taking up the story, "Jeri, Anna and I are Slayers. The full title is Vampire Slayer. There used to be only one at a time, one girl died and the next was called."

"But, but, who makes us slayers? Who has that kind of power to ruin our lives?"

Willow hung her head. Kennedy continued, "No one really knows who gives us the power. Usually people say things like _'The Powers That Be'_. But thats really a sort of joke title. And truly, our lives have not been ruined."

"You said there used to be only one? How many now, and why?"

"Ah, yes, there used to be _One girl in all the world given the strength and speed to fight the demons, vampires and forces of darkness_," she intoned piously, "and then one day a Slayer named Buffy Summers drowned. She was lucky, she had friends who got to her in time and performed CPR, but she was technically dead long enough to call another slayer. So then there were two. Then a little more than a year ago she ran into a big problem, so big that all of us who were potentially slayers were in danger. Many of us were murdered."

"By weird guys with no eyes, and big foreign-looking knives?" asked Emily.

"Yes, they're called Bringers, I gather you ran into some of them."

"Yeah, but they didn't know I been fightin' and huntin' these hills since I was knee-high to a bear. I kilt three of them cocksuckers, dumped the bodies down an old mineshaft, and hid out in the woods ever since."

"You thought more were after you?" asked Dawn.

"Nah, them I could take care of, it was the law I was worried about. See, them Bringers murdered my family before they found me. And with all those dead bodies around, and the fact that my family never did git along with the law, well, the sheriff would probably shoot first and ask questions later if he ever spotted me."

"Oh goddess," Willow said, concerned, "your family? Oh, I'm so sorry."

"Well, they were a pretty sorry lot. I would've shot my dad one of these days myself. Just saved me the trouble. And my older brothers and sisters and cousins were of no account. Anyhow, if they hadn't all been drunk on 'shine at the time they could've taken care of them sorry-ass Bringers themselves. I am sorry about the little ones, but that's life."

The others, except for Ilyeria, looked at her in horror.

"Emily," said Dawn, "you have a new family now. One you can be proud of. If you want to live, come with me." Dawn looked at the others and laughed softly, "I've always wanted to say that. Andrew will be so jealous."

--- ---

The next afternoon Gibbs was sitting at his desk. The rest of his crew was out investigating while Gibbs struggled with a report. A report that would be utterly truthful without ever mentioning the word 'vampire'. It was tough going.

Abbey came up out of her lab clutching a file. "Here's something interesting Gibbs, all three of these barbecue-fork victims worked in the same unit, just before their current postings. They were all submariners on the USS Hampton, SSN 767, all at the same time.

"Even the marine sergeant?"

"Yep, him too. He was on board for some TDY—some special op." Abbey shook her head to get some strands of hair out of her face and her collar jangled.

Gibbs said with feeling, "Shit."

"Why is this bad news?"

"Well Abbey, it's because the facts no longer fit my hypothesis. So I need some new ideas, and some new facts would be nice too."

"Well, one good thing came out of this."

"What?"

"I finally convinced you to stop using the word theory when you meant hypothesis."

"Get the hell out here!"

Abby left with an amused grin while Gibbs looked through his Rolodex with a sorrowful expression. He really did not want to make this call, but there was no longer any choice. He punched the number with the same enthusiasm as if he were calling one of his ex-wives.

"This is the Pentagon, how may I direct your call?"

"Extension 4747 please."

"Yeoman Timmons."

"Yeoman Timmons, this is NCIS Special Agent Gibbs. I need to talk to Major Finn."

"Oh, yessir. Uh, I mean nossir. The Major isn't in."

"Well, can you forward my call?"

"Ah, well, that would be, ah, no, uh sir."

"Then give me his number."

"I can't do that either, sir."

Gibbs frowned into the phone and said, "Then get a message to him! He needs to call me ASAP!"

"Uh, yes sir, that's something I can do. But I can't promise that he'll return your call in a timely manner."

"Just get the message to him. Tell him I have business that falls into his turf."

"And you you know about his, uh, turf?"

"Yes."

"Oh. I'm so sorry about that Agent Gibbs. I'll do what I can to get this message to him."

--- ---

The next morning found Emily, Willow, Kennedy and Dawn having brunch at an outdoor café outside of Washington. Emily was drinking latte with delight but poked suspiciously at her Quiche Loraine, which she had ordered on Kennedy's advice and was now regretting.

Willow tapped away on her laptop and finally said, "OK Emily, you were officially declared dead. No ones been looking for you, at least not the Sheriff of Lee County, Virginia."

"Try the Sheriff of Harlan County, Kentucky. He's the one got a hard-on fer me and mine," said Emily.

Dawn blinked at Emily's casual pejoratives and said, "But I thought you were from Virginia?"

"I am, but you check a map and you'll find that where I lived was near Virginia, West Virginia, and Kentucky. I still have relatives all over, and we'uns dint much care which state we was in. Actually, up in them hills you can hardly tell."

Willow tapped her laptop some more and found that Emily was 'Missing, presumed dead' in Kentucky. "Well, we'll get you some new identification. In fact, we might be able to finesse the United States Government into getting a new ID for you. They're the best at fake ID after all."

"Hi all!" said Buffy, coming in from the sidewalk, "you must be Emily, I'm glad to meet you at last, I'm Buffy Summers."

"Ah, hi," Emily replied, caught totally off-guard by Buffy's California cover-girl looks.

"You're the Senior Slayer? The boss?"

"Hah, I wish. Slayers are the most irritatingly independent women in the world. It's ingrained in us to go our own way, alone into night. Getting slayers all going in the same direction is like that saying about herds of cats. Or single-minded slippery hogs or something."

"Oh Buffy, you know very well everyone listens to you," said Dawn.

"Yeah, they listen, they nod their heads in agreement, and then they all go off in different directions."

Willow said, "Seriously Emily, it's not that bad. Buffy's actually a pretty good leader these days, and she's usually not too overbearing. We all respect her decisions."

Buffy was about to retort when her cell phone rang. She looked at it and frowned, "Damn, it's Riley. I'd better answer it." She flipped it open and said, "Hello Ri, sup?"

"Hey Buffy, where are you, anyway?"

"I am sitting at an outdoor café, not sipping cappuccino because it isn't here yet, with two slayers, a witch, and a sister."

"And what part of the world is this café located?"

"Just outside of Washington, in fact."

"Er, is that DC or state?"

"DC."

"Oh, wow, that's damn good. You're not there because of one of your slayer dreams, are you?"

"Nope, business. Which, as it happens, has been concluded. What can I do for you?"

"I know you probably don't have warm and fuzzy feelings for Agent Gibbs at NCIS, but I think he needs some consultation of the kind that you or I could provide. Since my group and I are in Nepal at the moment, I can't help much. Can you give him a call and see what he wants? And try not to put him in traction?"

"Hmmph, I guess I can, in fact, he can do me a favor. OK, what's the number?" She noted the number on the palm of her hand and said into the phone, "OK, got it Riley. I'll talk to you later, and say hello to your Sherpas for me, oh, and Sam too." She put her phone away and said, "Willow, would you like to accompany me to NCIS? The rest of you can do the tourist thing while we bail out the Navy from whatever reef they struck. Is that a mixed metaphor? And we can probably get Emily's new identification out of the deal."

--- ---

Buffy and Willow got off the elevator at NCIS. Willow said, "Wow, this is not what I expected. I thought there'd be ugly green offices, battered metal desks and bad carpet. This is upscale, this is nice, hey, this is really a waste of taxpayer money! I'm going to write my congressman and complain!"

Gibbs looked up as they approached his desk. His face fell and he said, "Oh hell, what did I do to deserve this? If I had known that a call to Riley Finn would produce you, I wouldn't have called."

"Ha ha," McGee said to Buffy, "he's joking you know."

"No he's not," said Ziva, "he really doesn't like you, Buffy. I think you remind him of one of his ex-wives."

"One of his exes? Just how many did you collect?" Buffy asked.

"That would be none of your business. Introduce me to your friend, please."

"This is Willow Rosenberg, she can be of tremendous help, unless you're certain that your problem can only be solved by violence, then she's less helpful, but she can do it in a pinch."

Willow smiled at Buffy's introduction.

"Well, there might a problem with clearances."

Willow held up her visitor's pass along with an ID card issued by the Defense Security Service.

"Good grief," said Gibbs, "that DSS card better not be a forgery. McGee, check it out."

While McGee checked Willow's clearances on his computer, Willow said, "You know, Agent Gibbs, if these are forged documents, and if some well-connected computer cracker fixed the computer files to read the same, then all the checking in the world would be useless."

"Yeah, but the DoD has the best computer security in the world. No way could you actually change any files, even if you did manage to break in."

Willow mumbled something under her breath.

"What?" asked Gibbs.

"Oh, you're living in a dreamworld Agent Gibbs, the GAO gave the DoD an 'F' in computer security," said Willow.

Buffy interrupted, "Forget about that, Riley told me you needed our help, so let's get down to business. Willow did catch me up to what happened out in the woods yesterday, but I'm guessing there's a thread of evidence that doesn't fit."

"Yeah, let's go down to the lab. Ziva, come with us, DiNozzo, keep doing what you were doing, and McGee, join us when you are done checking on Ms. Rosenberg."

--- ---

Instead of going to the lab, they ended up in a secure conference room. Gibbs checked an electronic device and punched some codes into a computer. Finally, he said, "OK, everything is secure now, no taping, no eavesdropping, everything we say will be between us."

"So why all the security?" asked Buffy.

"Because," answered Gibbs, "I don't want to spend my declining years in the nuthouse. And if what we have to talk about gets around, I am afraid that that's exactly what will happen."

Willow smiled and said, "I wouldn't worry too much about it, most people absolutely refuse to believe in the supernatural. And they twist everything they see or hear so as not to notice anything out of the ordinary. All you really need to do is to make sure your written reports don't mention anything like magic, or demons, or vampires; unless of course, you can twist it around with phrases like, _'the victim believed...'_ or _'the perpetrator was convinced that vampires were chasing him...',_ etc. But I'm sure you know the drill."

"Yeah, but, I don't take chances when I can avoid them."

"So," asked Buffy, "what's the problem?"

"I have three victims. The huge problem is that all three served together on a nuclear submarine until all they rotated out into ordinary assignments. There are a number of unusual details about this case, including the fact that all three were apparently murdered by at least two different, er, uh, you know..."

"...vampires," offered Buffy.

"Yeah," said Gibbs, "what you said and I won't. Look, I don't know what you guys can do here. Anything to do with nukes is highly classified. I really did need Major Finn on this, not a couple of civilians."

Willow said, "We can be more useful than you think. First of all, it's not likely that this'll turn out to be some sort of espionage thing, vampires are not known to work for spy agencies. They tried that back in WWII and it ended in failure because vamps are too stupid and too independent for that sort of thing. And if one did, he would likely be thoroughly unreliable. No, the odds are this will turn out to be simply that someone got turned and went back to eat his friends and family. That's what vampires do."

Gibbs looked disgusted, "I knew I didn't want to get involved in your world."

"Don't worry," said Buffy, "as long as we understand each other, we'll do our best to de-involve you."

Gibbs said, "I can't look the other way."

"Yes you can, and you will, at the right time," said Willow, "you'll be surprised at how easy it is to come up with excuses and alternate answers. In the meantime, to get to the bottom of this, we can advise you. Then, when you connect the dots, call us."

Gibbs pondered that and finally asked, "All right, what do you advise?"

Buffy said, "Actually, this should be pretty easy. First, get a list of the people on the sub when the victims were there. Then, find out if any are missing, besides the dead ones I mean. Look for anyone who's family was murdered and unsolved. That will probably identify your vampire. Then, turn me loose. Of course, it's possible that the vampires Emily slayed are the are the only ones that were involved."

Gibbs was irritated. Buffy and Willow could see that he was conflicted and trying to argue with himself. He got up and paced around the table. Buffy and Willow glanced at each other but said nothing.

Finally, Gibbs shook his head and said, "All right, I'll it try your way, but I can't see how anything good can come from this."

"Except we'll make sure that your vampires don't murder anyone else."

"Yeah, OK. You know, I'm still not certain I believe in any of this crap."

"Even though the Pentagon does? And the President too?" asked Buffy with a smile.

"Yeah."

"And your own forensic technician?"

"Abby is an outstanding scientific investigator, but she has a blind spot as big as all Goth."

Willow and Buffy were amused. Willow said, "So, your next step doesn't even involve us. Here is my card, and Buffy will give you hers. When you get to the point where you need us, give us a jingle." And with that, they both stood up and waited expectantly for Gibbs. He finally joined them with a sour expression.

--- ---

"McGEE! DiNOZZO!" shouted Gibbs as he got off the elevator, "get your kits, we're going to New London!"

"What about me?" asked Ziva.

Gibbs appeared uncharacteristically embarrassed. He said, "Um, your security clearance doesn't go high enough for a visit to a nuke. Sorry Ziva, but it's out of my hands. But you can start with the personnel data and can investigate the crew from here. That's what you're good at anyway, interviewing witnesses is not your strong point after all."

DiNozzo said in an aside to McGee, "Except with pliers maybe."

When McGee and DiNozzo had left the room, Gibbs walked over and dropped two business cards on Ziva's desk. He quietly explained what he wanted, and added, "If you find a name, call Summers or Rosenberg. Don't tell me about it. And don't even think about going after it yourself—unless you're feeling particularly suicidal."

Ziva's eyebrows went up as she watched Gibbs enter the elevator.

--- ---

To be continued, probably in a few weeks, if only my clients let up a little bit.


	2. Chapter 2

NCIS and BtVS

in a Fan Fiction Crossover

**Buffy Returns to Washington**

by

STFarnham

Lancer47

_Summary: Agent Gibbs has a vampire problem. He really wishes he didn't._

_Timeline: Concurrent with NCIS 2005/2006 Season_

_Rating: T (PG-13)_

_This is a work of Fiction even though real ships, submarines and places are named in the story. No character is based on any real person. Any similarity is strictly coincidental and unintended. _

_NCIS (the TV show) and BtVS are owned by other people, I'm just playing here, not making any money._

**Chapter Two**

"Wow," said Tony, "it's too bad Ziva couldn't make it. She'd feel right at home with all these guards toting loaded weapons."

"Yeah, I could just see the Nuclear Navy welcoming an ex-Mossad agent with open arms," McGee said sarcastically.

DiNozzo, McGee, and Gibbs were waiting for the guards at the New London Submarine Base to complete their security checks. They didn't just wave them through after a quick glance at ID, oh no. These guys actually checked to make sure each ID was correctly issued, and not reported stolen. Gibbs was impatient to get going, but they were required to cool their heels in a waiting room while the security procedures ground to a close.

Eventually, a trim and professional female Navy Lieutenant came into the room. She said, "Agent Gibbs? I'm Lieutenant Mason, all of you are cleared. If you follow me we can join the others at the meeting concerning the Hampton's Blue Crew in the conference room at SubRonCon II."

"Huh?" asked a surprised Gibbs, "what conference? We're just here to interview the officers and crew of the Hampton."

"The FBI beat you to it, and also ONI as well as agents from DCIS and DSS. We're real popular with a whole alphabet soup of agencies this morning."

It was with a feeling of impending argument that Gibbs and crew followed Lt. Mason to the conference room.

"Special Agent Fornell," said Gibbs with a grimace, "now my day is complete."

"Gibbs, what the hell are you doing here?"

"Uh, Fornell? We are on a Navy base? Perhaps that slipped by your eagle-eyes? NCIS has jurisdiction. You have to tell _me_ what _you_ are doing here."

Agent Fornell frowned even more than usual before he replied, "The FBI has the lead on espionage cases, Gibbs. You know that."

"Espionage? What the hell are you talking about? This is a murder investigation!"

"That, Agent Gibbs," said a young women that Gibbs hadn't yet noticed, "has yet to be determined. The FBI, NSA, and ONI all think we have a spy problem here. DCIS isn't as sure, but we're looking."

"And you are?" asked Gibbs.

"Special Agent Lehane, DCIS."

The last member of the group said, "I'm Colonel Evanson from ONI. The Office of Naval Intelligence sent me to observe the FBI's investigation and to help out if possible."

Agent Fornell looked distinctly unhappy with Colonel Evanson. Gibbs thought to himself that ONI was more likely to quash embarrassing leads than contribute anything useful. They were almost as bad as the CIA. Nor did he often cross paths with DCIS but at least they were more or less colleagues.

Fornell called out loudly, "All right, if everyone would have a seat I will call this meeting to order." It a couple of minutes for the dozen people to find a set at the table and organize their notebooks. Gibbs grabbed the seat at the end opposite Fornell, and glowered.

Fornell said, "All right, if you're all settled, would everyone please introduce themselves? I'm Special Agent T. C. Fornell of the FBI," he turned to the person on his right and said, "next."

"Special Agent Faith Lehane, DCIS."

"Special Agent Timothy McGee, NCIS."

"Special Agent Epsilon Chang, FBI."

"Special Agent Samuel Taylor, FBI."

Colonel Evanson, USMC, ONI."

"Special Agent Jethro Gibbs, NCIS."

"Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo, NCIS."

"Lieutenant Mason, USN. I'm the Liaison Officer with SubRonCon II."

"Commander Burrows, USN. I'm the Captain of the USS Hampton, SSN 767." Captain Burrows had the gruffest voice and the most _'why the hell are we wasting my time here'_ attitude of all the participants.

"One thing before we continue," Gibbs asked, "why is the DCIS here? Don't you usually look for improperly labeled screws?"

Faith answered sincerely, "Falsely identified fasteners can cause the loss of a ship and all hands, Agent Gibbs. But we also fight terrorism, computer crime, and fraud. Come on Gibbs, you know what we do. In this case, we uncovered an unusually competent computer attack targeting this facility. But I'm in the anti-terrorism department."

"OK," said Fornell, "the reason the FBI is here is because ONI, with a little help from NSA, discovered an unauthorized radio transmission coming from this base. And some computer attacks that started here, as well as attacks targeting the base, as Agent Lehane has mentioned. Preliminary analysis didn't look good, and so far, NSA has been unable to break the code of the transmissions. Then we discovered that an officer is missing from the Hampton. A search of his quarters turned up copies of one-time crypto pads. That, as you all know, is an extremely serious problem. So, here we are."

Gibbs said, "It's worse than that Fornell. You have at least four missing men, not one. We have three dead bodies, all crew members from this submarine."

"What!?" exclaimed Captain Burrows with a disbelieving snort, "we aren't missing anyone other than Lieutenant McCandless! We had an inspection just this morning!"

"What are you talking about Gibbs?" asked Fornell, "how could this be true?"

DiNozzo spoke up after Gibbs nodded at him, "The three dead men had all transferred off the sub, they are officially listed as missing from their current assignments, not their old one."

At this, everyone looked interested. DiNozzo continued, "NCIS has identified the first one as Staff Sergeant McNulty, recently stationed at Quantico, formerly he was TOD on the USS Hampton for some operation that we don't have access to. The second was Communications Technician Second Class Dunteman, formerly of the Hampton, recently attached to the mustering out unit in Norfolk. His enlistment was up, he was murdered while waiting on paperwork so he could go home." There was a lot of head shaking at this news.

"The third body was identified as Lt. (jg) Raphaelson, newly appointed to the USS Truxtun, DDG 103." Captain Burrows looked stricken at this news. "It's worth noting that all three men were assigned to the Blue crew, and all were here at the same time. We also have indications, but no proof, that a fourth member of the crew might be responsible for at least one of the murders. That fourth member is alleged to be dead, according to an informant, but we haven't found his body. It's possible that he could be the missing Lieutenant," Tony finished.

Gibbs said, "We're here to interview the crew, I suggest we get to it. Since you're all here, I suppose you might as well continue your investigations into the the spying problem, but we need to exchange information as we get it. NCIS is taking over as the lead agency, and before you say a word Fornell, you and I will talk to our bosses, and you know what they'll say. Therefore, all info comes back to me. I guess I don't need to say it, but I will anyway: the likelihood that the espionage and the murders are connected is very high. Would you not agree?"

Fornell sighed, "Yes Gibbs, it's probably one case. But the FBI will continue to be the lead agency until I get orders otherwise."

"I never expected anything else from you, so for now, continue with what you were doing." Fornell looked put out at being ordered to do what he going to do anyway, and had no retort.

Gibbs turned to Captain Burrows and said, "Captain, I'd like to take a tour of the sub, and start interviewing the crew. DiNozzo and Agent Lehane will join us, McGee you start by reading the FBI files, and," here Gibbs looked like he was forcing himself to do something he really didn't want to do, "and the FBI can look over our files."

--- ---

Once on board the sub, Gibbs and Lehane followed a young officer assigned to guide them. They spent several hours touring the sub, stopping often to ask questions of various sailors at work, and finally back to the control room. Faith said quietly to Gibbs, "You and I need to confer, without anyone listening in."

"Why? This is one of the most secure places in the world, everyone here has been vetted by the best people in the business."

"Yeah? So why do you have three dead bodies? And why do all your dead bodies have two little holes in their necks?"

"Ah shit, I knew you were gonna be trouble. All right, while DiNozzo is interviewing in the wardroom, we'll talk in the Captain's cabin."

Faith said, "I'm nervous about being overheard, I don't know enough about the onboard systems to be certain everything is off. Let's go for a walk on the pier."

"That has other problems you know, telephoto lenses manned by lip-readers, or long-range microphones, to name two."

"I'm not paranoid enough to think someone had the forethought to set up something like that just on the off-chance that we might talk on the pier. Come on," said Faith.

Once topside they walked down the brow and out to the end of the pier. The screaming of seagulls circling around, the continuous rolling and splashing of waves, and car engines from up the hill were the only sounds besides their voices. "OK," said Gibbs with a heavy sigh, "what is it?"

"You've met Admiral Fitzsimmons, Buffy Summers and Major Riley, right?"

"Yes," Gibbs replied flatly, as if he would rather have forgotten the circumstances.

"Well, I'm kinda like Buffy's twin sister, except without the being related part. You understand me?"

"Yes." Gibbs said as he stared at the horizon, "but how did you get to be a DCIS Special Agent?"

"Major Riley and the Pentagon worked something behind the scenes. If you check on me this week, you'll find that I'm a real Special Agent, qualified and on the payroll with benefits and everything. But if you check a couple of weeks after this case is closed, you'll find that nobody over there ever heard of me. You see?"

"No, I don't see," grumbled Gibbs.

"Really?"

"Well, maybe a little," he said. "OK, what about today?"

"Well, you've got sharks in a very expensive pipe, what are we gonna do about it?"

Gibbs got her references immediately. "You mean vampires are on the sub now?"

"Yes. And I can't quite see calling in Riley and the boys, even if they were available, since I can't imagine the local Admiral signing off on a marine invasion force of his base without a whole lot of high level exposition. And taking out two vampires in a fully occupied Nuclear Submarine – without getting other sailors killed – is going to be tricky even for me."

"Plus the paperwork," sighed Gibbs, "trying to explain how two sailors turned to dust isn't something I'm prepared for."

"Yeah," laughed Faith. "On top of that, this whole espionage thing has me baffled. It's not my usual cup of tea. Oh, here's a report you should read."

Gibbs took a black manila folder from Faith and flipped it open. Faith explained, "Back in WW-II an advanced German submarine was captured by American forces and was being driven back to the US."

"Sailed."

"Huh?"

"You don't drive submarines, you sail them."

"Uh, OK. Anyway, the sub was infested with vampires. The US Government had their own outfit that handled such things, called the DRI, which became the Initiative, which is Riley's group today. So, back in WW-II, they found themselves a fairly tame vampire and blackmailed him into boarding the sub..."

Gibbs interrupted, "How the did they get him aboard in the middle of the ocean?"

"It's a long story, and I don't have time to go over the details, it's all in the files in your hands. To make a long story short, the only survivors were vampires. As far as I know, the sub is still out there somewhere. My point is this, we absolutely must, without fail, get those vampires off this sub! The thought of vampires and nuclear missiles really makes me shiver. And I'm not a girl who shivers easily."

"Well that's something we certainly can agree on."

"So what do we do?" Faith turned to Gibbs to watch his expression closely.

"It doesn't look like getting a tame vampire worked all that well, so I guess it's up to us," said Gibbs.

"We could get the same vampire, actually. He would probably do the job better today than he did back in 1944, too."

"Holy hell! How long do vampires live anyway?"

"They don't live, they're undead. And they stay undead pretty much forever, unless someone like me comes along and drives a stake through their shriveled up black heart."

"So, you're the expert, you got any ideas?"

"Yeah, here's what we can do..."

--- ---

_Glossary:_

_FBI:Federal Bureau of Investigations_

_NCIS:Naval Criminal Investigative Service_

_DCIS:Defense Criminal Investigative Service_

_ONI:Office of Naval Intelligence_

_DSS:Defense Security Service_

_NSA:National Security Agency _

_DRI:Demon Research Initiative (maybe)_


	3. Chapter 3

NCIS and BtVS

in a Fan Fiction Crossover

**Buffy Returns to Washington**

**Part II**

by

STFarnham

Lancer47

**Chapter Three**

Faith waited, uncomfortable, quiet, terrified, wondering what would happen next. She exchanged nervous glances with both Dawn and Gibbs, seated next to her. After a few minutes, the young man at a desk on the opposite side of the room got up and went to the door. He said, "The President will see you now, Agent Lehane."

She got up and went into the Oval Office, feeling very much like she was walking to a hanging, her hanging probably. She stopped in front of the President's desk and snapped, "DCIS Special Agent Faith Lehane reporting as ordered, sir!" After a short awkward pause, she added, "Uh, am I supposed to salute you or something?"

The President chuckled and said, "Not unless you're wearing a uniform, and you're not entitled to wear one. But then, I'm not entirely certain you're entitled to claim you're Federal Agent, either."

"Uh, about that..." She stopped, nonplussed, as the President stood up and walked around the desk. He pointed Faith towards a couch and sat himself on the opposite couch.

"Charlie!" he said loudly.

The President's assistant came in bearing a silver tray with a fresh pot of coffee, cups, accessories, and some delectable snacks. He place the tray on the coffee table between the couches. "Will that be all Mr. President?"

"Yes, Charlie. Please set security protocol three."

"Mr. President!" he replied as he stepped out and closed the door.

Faith looked at the President and asked, "Security Protocol three?"

"They won't interrupt us unless an attack by foreign powers is imminent, and there will be no recording of this session. You'll see a Secret Service agent glance at us through that small window every few minutes, but they won't be in the room with us." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small recorder. "Although there will be no official recording, I will use my private machine to make a recording of this – just in case I have to hang you out to dry."

Faith was alarmed. "Do you think that will necessary, sir?"

"I sincerely hope not, especially since that would open up all sorts of things that need to remain more secret than our most extreme official classification."

"I see, sir, I think. Where would you like me to begin?"

"From the beginning, of course."

"Well sir, I was born in Boston..."

"Not that far back."

"Sorry sir. Would you answer a question first sir? You see, I don't know what the f-, uh, exactly what I can and can't tell you."

"Faith, may I call you Faith? Thank you. Faith, I am the President of the United States. There is nothing that you _can't_ tell me legally, and much that you _must_ tell me. No classification exists higher than mine, no 'need-to-know' exception applies to me. You may be assured that you will not be prosecuted for telling me anything, no matter what the classification and no matter what some underling might claim, incorrectly, that anything is classified beyond me. The law is very clear on this matter."

"Yes sir, but that's not the problem. The problem is I may need to tell you stuff that you'll think is crazy. You may end up believing I'm a looney, and that would be very bad for both of us.

"I see your difficulty. Would it help if I told you that I know DRI stands for 'Demon Research Initiative', I know vampires exist, I know about Vampire Slayers, and I know that _you_ are the last of the 'Chosen' Slayers?"

Faith was frankly astonished. She shook her head in disbelief and said, "That, fu-, uh, I mean, that – is good. Surprising, but real fu-, uh, helpful."

The President said, "I have a complete report from Special Agent Gibbs concerning the events in Virginia leading up the investigation moving to the New London Submarine Base. So start with how you came to be involved, as well as how you came to be holding DCIS credentials, as good as real ones at that."

"I was in New York, at the IWSC – you know what the IWSC is? Yes? Good – when I got a phone call from Agent-, or maybe it's Lieutenant-Colonel this week, Riley Finn, of the DRI."

"Ahh, I see."

"I took the train to Washington, and made my way to the Pentagon where Riley met me. He brought me up to speed with the same report you got from Agent Gibbs as well as his own agents on the scene."

"Wait wait," said the President, "Riley Finn told you he had agents in New London?"

"Yes sir. I never saw them though, unless they were really deep cover."

"Hmm, hold on a minute." He picked up the phone and said, "Charlie, call Agent, or Lieutenant Colonel, Riley Finn at the Pentagon and tell him to report to me ASAP. Make certain he has no wiggle room, I want him here within the hour, or sooner. If you have a hard time finding him, look for a department called the DRI. If that doesn't work, get back to me." He hung up.

"Please continue Agent Lehane."

"Well, Riley handed me a DCIS badge and gun and other stuff, orders, car keys, authorizations, and finally a map. He also told me to be quiet about his whereabouts, since he claimed to several other people that he was in Timbuktu or some f-, damned place. I gathered that he was working the investigation very hush-hush from the Pentagon. Anyway, I almost told him to stuff-it-where-the-sun-don't-shine several times, but I finally agreed to go on the mission for him." She paused for a sip of coffee and swallowed a fresh-made chocolate glazed _petit-four_.

"Go on."

"Mmmph, that's fu-, darned good. So, where was I? Oh yes, I arrived at the Submarine base, went through their insane security like a good little Federal employee, and ended up at a meeting with more armed alphabet soup agents than I knew existed. I mean, besides me, we had NCIS, FBI, ONI, f-, freaking NOAA, and several Navy officers. After a pissing contest between FBI Agent Fornel and NCIS Agent Gibbs, DiNozzo, Gibbs and I finally went to do some investigating. And we found fucking, sorry sir, I mean freaking vampires on the fu-, er, submarine. Vampires and nuclear weapons! Fu-, gah! And I couldn't just stake them right there because Gibbs started spouting off shit, I mean, uh crap, about civil rights and rules and regulations and we couldn't just disappear prisoners from his custody. Never in life have I ever seen it so fu-, uh, complicated to stake vampires."

"Faith, if you can't speak coherently without saying 'fuck', then for chrisakes say it! I've heard it before, I'm not going to swoon with the vapors."

"Uh, thank you Mr. President. Anyway, I came up with a plan, and nearly the first fucking thing that happened is all fucking hell broke loose. It turned into a cluster-fuck to beat all cluster-fucks. It was pure luck we didn't have more casualties or any deaths."

The President grinned, sipped some coffee, and signaled her to continue with her story.

* * *

"...yeah, here's what we can do..." said Faith.

"Oh _this_ oughta be good," murmured Gibbs.

Faith frowned at Gibbs and said, "Do you want to hear it or not?"

"Yeah, yeah, go ahead."

"Okay," Faith ticked off one finger, "One, you could try an just fuckin' arrest them, you know, like regular criminals or something. It won't be easy, some vamps can sense slayers, but if they're newly sired they might be clueless. But if we could think of something to get them off the boat without letting them know we know they're turned, then we'd we could get them well away from the sub before dropping the hammer on 'em. We'd have to go in after sunset of course to avoid them bursting into flames on the pier in front of everyone – that'd be hard to explain. So then we'll take them somewhere quiet, get what information they have and stake them. All done."

"Umm," said Gibbs, "there's the tiny little problem of explaining where they got to. In government service, paperwork always has to match up; if NCIS arrests them, then NCIS is responsible for them, and we would have to produce them when asked, or explain why we weren't able to. Death by torture and cardiac stabbing isn't on the approved list of reasons to have killed a prisoner. In fact, other than self-defense or attempted escape or something similar, there _is_ no list of approved reasons to have killed a prisoner. Such things tend to be a career killers."

"Yeah, I can see where that might be difficult to explain. Okay," she ticked off finger number two, "we lure them someplace quiet and then dust them. The lure has to be done in a way that doesn't point to any of us. After all, they probably do leave the ship occasionally while they're in port."

Gibbs nodded, "Better. By the way, a submarine is called a 'boat', not a ship. How to you plan on getting information out of the vampires?"

"Pressing a small cross to their skin usually does the trick. Or force it into their mouth and hold the jaw closed. And what the fuck? That thing's a whole lot bigger than any boat I ever seen."

"Well, that sounds easier than I thought. Any other ideas? I have no idea why they call it a 'boat', that's just the Navy for you."

"I could just walk around the sub until I get each vampire alone, and stake them. I'm pretty good at acting all nonchalant afterwards."

"Did you notice that this crew, as on all U. S. Navy subs, at least until recently, is all male? You could no more wander around the Hampton without acquiring a conga line of horny sailors than I could learn how to be a Vampire Slayer."

Faith smiled as she said, "When ya got, flaunt it!"

A car approached the pier and parked. Gibbs frowned, Faith grinned when Dawn got out and walked out on the pier.

"How the hell did you get on base?" asked Gibbs.

"You're looking at the most recently accredited Special Agent of the NOAA," Dawn replied, "I'm armed and everything!" She pulled her jacket aside and proudly showed off her gun and badge.

Gibbs groaned, "National Oceanic and Atmospheric Agency? Since when do they have armed agents?"

"For several years actually. Of course, I only took the agent course in Georgia, so far. I'm officially here to find out why dead mammals have been spotted floating downstream from the shipyard. Very nasty, the eco-people are quite upset and at least one of the congressmen from Connecticut is awfully put out."

Gibbs turned away and mumbled something under his breath.

"What was that?" asked Dawn.

"He said, '_This is a fucking nightmare_'," said Faith.

"What! How'd you hear that?"

"She has Slayer hearing, of course," answered Dawn. "Yeah, NOAA is kind of a stretch, but it was the best Riley's Pentagon sneak-department could do for me on short notice – Faith having stretched DCIS's spec-ops budget to the extreme and Riley having no in with the FBI or NCIS."

Gibbs moaned, "Thank god for small favors."

Dawn continued as if Gibbs hadn't said anything, "I just hope I don't run into any real NOAA agents, there's only about sixty of them so they probably all know each other. But they gotta be spread pretty thin."

"Hmm," said Gibbs.

"In fact, there really were some corpses that floated down from this base, but they were demon corpses. We were able to hush up the demonic identities, and we floated rumors about them being sea mammals. But that kind of backfired and got some activists up in arms. Apparently there are some people who will use any excuse that comes along to make trouble for this base, although most of the locals are quite prideful. Still, it got me in."

Fornel came out of the building with a couple of other FBI agents and strolled out the pier when he noticed the impromptu conference. "Who's this Gibbs? NCIS sends PR folks along now?" He took a sip of coffee from his Styrofoam cup.

"No Fornel, this is Special Agent Summers from NOAA," Gibbs answered with a straight face.

Fornel didn't react at first. But when the meaning of NOAA reached his brain, he choked and swallowed coffee down his windpipe. It took a minute of coughing, hacking and spitting until he got it settled.

"Do I want to know about this? Or can I leave it to you?"

Gibbs sighed, "Yeah, leave it to me."

"Good, because word just came down from my boss that you are indeed the lead agency in this mess. And frankly, I'm delighted to wash my hands of it."

"So are you going to stick around? Or do you have other, more important cases?"

"No, no, I'm assigned here until we get the perps. The spy end of it is still mine, unless it turns out to be connected to your case."

"Oh joy," said Faith and Gibbs, simultaneously. After a minute or so of silence, Fornel finally decided he would be better employed elsewhere and left.

Faith said with a sigh of resignation, "I think its time to check in with the Pentagon."

Dawn looked amazed. "What happened to 'jump in the middle with both feet'?"

"Uh, that works fine right up until it doesn't – then we're up shit creek. Besides, this is kind of new experience for all of us – vamps on nukes? Not my idea of a way to get a comfortable sleep."

Gibbs and Dawn both nodded in agreement. Gibbs asked curiously, "Who do you call at the Pentagon?"

"Some admiral or other." Faith fished a card from her back pocket and read it, "Admiral Fitzsimmons."

Gibbs said, "Hmm, yes, I met him once. Secretive SOB."

Faith got her cell phone and made the call. Gibbs was astonished when the call went through directly to the Admiral, without any underlings to get in the way. Definitely unusual behavior for a flag officer.

"Hi, uh Admiral. This is Faith Lehane."

"_Ah, the other senior Slayer. I understand you do good work."_

"Yeah, thanks. Uh, I'm calling from the New London Nuclear Sub Base and..."

"_WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING THERE?"_

"The usual."

"_Shit! Tell me what you have."_

"Vampires, three of 'em, on the USS Hampton, crew members."

"_FUCKING VAMPIRES ON A FUCKING NUKE? ARE YOU FUCKING SHITTING ME?" _

"No sir, admiral sir, I shit you not. I'm here with Special Agent Gibbs from NCIS, and we're trying to figure out our next step. Complications include the extremely paranoid security you guys got here, and the fact that FBI Agents are crawling all over the fucking place. And a Colonel from ONI is here too. The whole place is buzzing over some spy thing slash security breach. Oh yeah, and there's a Special Agent from NOAA here, on top of everything else there's a publicity shitstorm brewing over dead mammals floating down the river."

"_Christ on a fucking pogo stick! FBI? ONI? Fucking NOAA? Is there any possibility, at all, that we can keep the lid on this? The last thing I want is some sort of real-life X-Files crap-o-rama showing up on the local news."_

"So far as I know, the FBI is clueless about the supernatural. Your man Riley fixed me up with temporary DCIS credentials, and the NOAA agent is Dawn Summers, you know, Buffy Summer's sister – Riley fixed up her creds also."

"_Fuckin' Riley did one thing right, but I'm still gonna string 'em up by his balls, he's supposed to take care of shit like this so I_ _don't have to! Go on Lehane."_

"I suggested to Agent Gibbs that he arrest the three vamps, and we take them to a quiet place and interrogate them and then I simply dust 'em. He doesn't think much of that idea, something about paperwork..."

"_Fuck 'em! Let me talk to Gibbs."_

Faith handed the phone to Gibbs, who was very startled to find himself talking to an angry admiral. "Yes sir?" he inquired carefully.

"_Gibbs, I know you, right? You were in on the cluster-fuck concerning Chief Donovan?"_

"Yes sir, that was me. I had to shut down an active investigation and add it to the cold case file." Even speaking to an Admiral, he still managed to sound aggrieved about it.

"_On my orders, I want you to arrest the offenders as soon as possible, right after the sun sets today. You may question them, but then they are to be transferred to Homeland Security, who will take them to Guantanamo Bay. The paperwork will balance, you'll be off the hook, and once they're in terrorist detention – well, I imagine we'll need a vacuum cleaner then."_

"Yes sir! What about warrants?"

"_I'll fax 'em to you. Get a hold of the base security officer, I'll get 'em there. What's the names of the vamped sailors?"_

"We don't know yet, sir."

"_We don't have time to wait, they'll be open-ended terrorism warrants," said the Admiral. He mused, "That terrorism garbage comes in handy from time to time." After a pause he said, "Gibbs, get those fucking vampires off that fucking Nuke – that's your priority. After that it'll be smooth sailing."_

"What about the FBI? What do I tell them? They're wetting themselves trying to catch a spy. They won't be happy if I manage to spirit three suspects away from them. And I don't have any idea of what this Colonel Evanson, the ONI spook, is gonna do. And just think about how unhappy they'll be if I _don't_ get the vamps away from here – can you imagine what'll happen if clueless FBI agents try to interview a real vampire?"

"_Just fucking dip me in shit. It's up to you Gibbs – keep a lid on it and I'll owe you one. If you don't – I don't have to spell it out, do I?"_

"No sir, I understand," Gibbs sighed, realizing that his ass was hanging out unprotected on this one. "And ONI?"

"_Evanson, Evanson," mused the Admiral, "oh, I know him. He can help you, just drop my name. As far as the FBI goes, let me see what I can do behind the scenes. Won't be easy, those stuffed-white-shirt fuckers strenuously resist taking 'suggestions' from the Pentagon."_

"Okaay. The other big problem will be the Navy – don't you think the Hampton's officers will wonder what the hell happened to their three enlisted guys that NCIS has arrested? It'll be a huge surprise that NCIS can came in and drag several of their men to Guantanamo Bay, likely an unpleasant surprise, especially if we accuse them of something that they demonstrably didn't do and don't bother with any legal niceties like an investigation or court martial."

"_I'm sure they will wonder, and they'll find me, eventually. I'll figure out something to say, and you probably don't need to mention Guantanamo to anyone. Got that?"_

"Yes sir, and what do I say if someday I find myself facing a tribunal of senators, asking questions about the disappeared sailors?"

_"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, Gibbs. We're gonna try to avoid any members of congress on this thing, but rest assured, if it does happen, I'll be on the docket next to you. Now you ready to go?"_

"Yes sir, I'll go find the Base Security Office. It's likely to be a large unit, should I ask for anyone in particular? Might I suggest a Lieutenant Mason for our contact – she's the Liaison Officer for SubRonCon II and should be able to find the right office for us."

"_Sounds good. I'll call you back."_ He abruptly hung up.

"Huh, typical admiral," Gibbs muttered. "Here's your phone Faith. He should be calling back shortly."

"So," said Faith, "we're gonna waltz onto the sub and arrest three vampires."

"Yep," Gibbs replied glumly.

"You know I'll have to do the physical stuff – the actual arrest. After I cuff the first one, the other two might just decide to stop worrying about laying low and make a game as to how many they can take with them. What do we do then?"

"I think we lowly NCIS agents can handle a handcuffed vampire, don't you?"

"No, I don't."

"Seriously? Just how strong are these things?"

"Vamps are strong enough to break ordinary police handcuffs. I have with me an extra-heavy-duty set, made out of extra strong metal with a dose of magic. But only the one pair. I foresee problems taking them out of the sub one at a time."

Gibbs asked wonderingly, "They can break handcuffs?"

"Yes Gibbs, so can I, get over it."

"You? You can break handcuffs?"

"I've done it before, you want me to show you?"

Gibbs thought about it before he said, "Would that have been one of those incidents I don't want to hear about? And no, let's not break my handcuffs."

"Yes, and okay."

Dawn, going into planning mode, said, "We'll have to wait for the sun to go down, but not much later. Let's try to scare up a van or something. We'll have to get some kind vampire-tranquilizers, that's the only way this'll go down without a bunch of dead bodies cluttering up the submarine."

Gibbs said, "We have three hours, can either of you get some more vamp-proof cuffs in that time?"

"Hmm, maybe. I'll need a very private room somewhere," said Dawn.

"For what?" Gibbs asked curiously.

"A little magic. I don't want to be interrupted or observed."

"Yeah, I can see that."

* * *

That evening, minutes before sunset, Gibbs and DiNozzo followed Faith over the forward brow to the deck in front of the sail. The 2nd Class Machinists Mate on the quarterdeck watch said, "Hey sweetcheeks, what can I do for ya?" as he raked his eyes over her chest. The petty office and his messenger were dressed in work uniforms, but clean and pressed. They made an attempt to look sharp, as befitted watchstanders on a nuclear sub, but neither was particularly gung-ho.

"You can stick to business, asswipe, and tell me where to find Missile-tech Burton."

"Beats me. You got any kind of authorization to be on this boat?"

"Yeah, we're Federal Agents, now get off yer ass and direct us to Barton.

"Probably in the mess, it's dinner time."

"Where else?"

"Crew quarters," he replied laconically.

Gibbs said to the petty officer, "Thank you, log this as an active NCIS investigation, here's a copy of my warrant." He turned to the messenger and said, "Take us to Barton by the shortest possible route, please."

They followed the messenger around to the back of the sail to an open hatch. Faith was impressed, again, by how tight the space was, considering how big it looked outside, the inside was tiny. They went down two decks and Faith was startled when someone shouted, "Women aboard!" and at least two naked guys dashed into side compartments. A couple of heads popped out from behind curtained bunks to stare at Faith as if she were an alien creature.

"Hey guys, you're tied up to a pier in Connecticut, pussy can't be _that_ rare."

"Well," said one sailor, "down _here_ in the crew's bunkroom you're pretty rare. Uh, what can we do for you?"

"We're looking for MT2 Barton," said Gibbs.

"Is he in trouble?"

"You leave that up to us, where is he?"

"In the head."

Gibbs sighed and knocked on the indicated door. "Hey Barton," he shouted, "get dressed and come out here!"

After a few minutes a sailor came out of the head, "Yeah? Whaddaya want?"

"You're under arrest," said Faith, "turn around." She got out her cuffs, but Barton was having none of that. He turned and tried to hit Faith with his right, she grabbed his fist and swung him down and around, smashing him into the rack stanchions.

A CPO from up the passage said, "Hey, what's goin' on down there? Take it easy!"

Faith viciously slammed her elbow down onto Barton's exposed neck, slamming him face first into the deck. The chief again remonstrated, "Hey! You don't hafta be so fucking violent!"

But Barton surprised everyone by back-kicking Faith in the gut and flipping over and up to his feet. He had enough presence of mind not to go to his game face, but that didn't stop him from trying to kill. He lashed out towards Faith but caught a slow moving Electronic Tech in the ribs who smashed into a bunk with a scream, collapsing to the deck. Faith had had enough, she stepped up with a flurry of kicks and hits which smashed him into the curved bulkhead, his head snapping forward into Faith's first as the back of his skull hit the low overhead. Faith finally was able to flip him down and snap her heavy cuffs and manacles on him. Faith twisted his arm up until he screamed. She whispered in his ear, "What's the name of your _campadres_? I know ya got two pals onboard, give 'em up before I dust you!"

The chief was getting pugnacious with Gibbs. Gibbs said, snapping his badge up, "This is NCIS business, back the fuck down Chief, you don't have a leg to stand on."

"Go to hell! You fuckers in NCIS can't just walk onto a Navy submarine, beat the shit out of a sailor and drag him off to god knows where for no good reason, there are rules!" Looking at the ET lying half across a lower bunk, groaning and holding his head, he said, "You guys don't even give a shit about collateral damage; assholes, it's fuckin' Iowa all over again!"

DiNozzo, helping Faith truss up Barton, said quietly, "Man I get tired of hearing that, it was decades before my time."

Gibbs said to the chief, "Ah, yes chief, we can make legal arrests and drag the arrestee off the boat by any means necessary."

"Show me your warrant!" Gibbs handed it over.

"You gotta be fucking kiddin' me! This is an open warrant, no names, just the magic wand: terrorist! Barton ain't no fuckin terrorist! He may be Joe Shit the Ragman, but he's no fuckin' terrorist! Whatever the hell your sellin', I ain't buyin'! Get your asses off my boat!"

"You can complain to the Pentagon, Chief, we're takin' Barton and you ain't gonna stop us!"

"We'll see about that, I'm gettin' the captain, don't you go nowhere! Anderson, keep an eye on these fuckers!" Then he hit the intercom and said, "Captain! We got a problem in crew quarters, some NCIS wienies are trying to drag Barton off, and they ain't got shit!"

Just then Barton let out another warbling scream, and Faith jabbed him with a needle, he passed out, his head hitting the steel deck with 'clunk'. "Okay you guys, carry him out while I hunt down this Hospital Corpsman 1st Class Weaver and Seaman Jonathon Fejes. Where do I find 'em?"

The chief was really angry now. "You gotta a set on ya, babe, I'll grant you that. But you just plant your ass right here until we get this sorted out!"

Another CPO, hearing the ruckus from several compartments away, came down the passage from behind Faith. "Okay, what the hell is going on here?"

"COB, glad you're here, these NCIS fuckers beat the crap out of Barton, cuffed him and drugged him and there gonna drag his ass off, they think he's a fuckin' terrorist! And one of 'em slammed Slim here into the damn bulkhead, fuckers don't even give a shit!"

"What, Barton? A terrorist! He's a lazy NQP, no way's he's into blowin' shit up!"

Gibbs was stunned as his arrest scene spun wildly out of control. And it didn't help matters when Faith asked the Chief of the Boat, "Hey chieffie, where's the whattayacallit, the doc's office?"

He was perturbed at being called 'chieffie', but he answered automatically, "You mean the sickbay. It's that way, six frames forward. But you ain't going anywhere, girlie, you park that cute rear end of yours right on that chair and wait for the captain."

Even though Faith preened at being complemented on her butt, she was getting tired of being told to sit. "Nah, I gotta job to do." She picked up the COB by his waist and turned them both around so fast the chief couldn't react, leaving him between her and the rest of the mess. She put him down and took off down the passage. She knew she was headed in the right direction, she could smell the vampire stench getting stronger. She didn't pay any attention to the yelling behind her.

"Hamano!" yelled the Chief of the Boat, "Grab that lobster! Stop her!"

A swarthy man, about twice as heavy as Faith, wearing a cook's apron and chef hat threw himself into grabbing her. Faith hit him in the solar plexus and he slammed against an electrical panel and slid to the deck. He put his head down, trying to catch his breath while Faith breezed on by. She saw 'SICKBAY' stenciled on a door and went through. She didn't give the vampire inside time to do anything before she jabbed him in the ass with her tranquilizer. He had just enough time to swing around with a scalpel in his hand, but she broke his arm before he could do any damage. She dragged him out, saw five guys charging down the passage towards her, so she dropped the vamp and ran the other way, towards yet another vampire smell.

She jumped into a hatch and grabbed the rails of a ship's ladder, sliding down on her hands to the deck below. The space here was altogether more machine-like, everything more rugged and unpolished. She followed her nose around and through unfathomable machinery till she found her seaman vampire. "Seaman Fejes! You're under arrest! Assume the position!" She grabbed the second set of cuffs from her belt. "Fejes, you ain't gotta chance against me, face down, on the floor, now!"

"Jesus Christ girlie, what the hell do you think you are, the damn Slayer?"

"Got it in one, now turn around."

"There ain't no such thing as a Slayer you ignorant bitch! That's just an old demon's tale. Since you can't fool me I think I'll snack on you instead."

"Ya know what I said to the last vampire who didn't believe in Slayers? Not a damn thing, I staked him and by the time I thought of something clever to say, he'd already turned to dust. Whattaya think of that, you dumb fucking vampire."

"I think you're lying."

Fejes vamped out and attacked with full force. He was incredibly surprised when Faith returned his hits, one-on-one, with a force greater than he'd never felt before. "Shit!" he said backing off, "What the fuck are you lady!"

"I told you, I ain't gonna repeat myself."

With that, the vampire turned tail and ran, dodging through the crowded equipment spaces with sure-footed familiarity until he found an open equipment hatch heading up.

One of the sailors chasing Faith had just caught up and grabbed her arm. She swept her leg back and knocked him off his feet, into the second sailor to catch up. She turned to run after Fejes, but she couldn't catch up, she kept banging into pipes and valves, she slipped on some disgusting green crap, skidded around corners until she finally found the open way up to the hull, the huge equipment hatch yawning wide, the stars beyond. She saw the vamp's feet disappearing at the top. She zoomed upwards, flipping the last eight feet onto the anechoic hull when she heard the splash – apparently her prey had dived overboard. She was about to dive after the vampire when she noticed a dozen sailors with rifles pointed at her.

One in the middle, behind a mounted gun of some sort, shouted, "You'all stop raiht there, this here's a Mark 44 Gau-17 7.62mm mini-gun that fires three thousand rounds per minute, and I got the fucker aimed at yore belly, so you just settle down and wait there 'till I tell you can move."

Faith stopped instantly, put her hands up, her jacket opening until her badge and gun were in view. "You see that badge on my belt? That badge says you're pointing guns at a Federal Agent, stopping said Federal Agent from doing her duty, you ready to go to jail? Oh wait, you don't call it jail, do you? You call it the fuckin' brig, right?"

"Lady, ah'm the Master-at-Arms of this here vessel, and I'm the representative of the law in these parts, and ah got the right to stop anyone an ask if yore business is legitimate or not. So right now, we're just gonna see whether or not you belong here, badge or no badge."

"Okay, I ain't movin'. But you're letting the bad guy get away."

"Well, I ain't so sure I believe that. Seaman Fejes cain't hardly find his boondockers when they're on his feet, so I'm a little sus-peesh-ush 'bout this 'terrorism' bullshit."

"Hey, they give me a warrant, I go catch 'em."

"Yeah, 'bout that so-called warrant, I ain't never seen one without names before, that's just bullshit."

"We were in hurry, didn't get the names before the warrants, but we got 'em now."

"Uh-huh. You jest be quiet and wait now, you hear?"

Two black Suburbans roared out onto the pier, screeching to a stop in front of the brow. A dozen FBI agents tumbled out of the two vehicles, Special Agent Fornel in the lead. He yelled at the sailors, "FBI! Put those weapons down, safe those weapons, _now_ sailors! You're interfering with a Federal Investigation and I want those weapons down!"

The ones with M4s and H&Ks looked at each other, not sure what to do. But at the increasingly insistent demands from the FBI agents they slowly lowered their guns. The Master-at-Arms said, "I don't know that you people have the authority to come aboard this boat."

"We're not on board, yet, but we were tasked to backup NCIS, which surely does have the authority. My men are getting itchy fingers Chief, I strongly suggest you de-cock that weapon."

The Chief, seeing as how the situation had gotten completely out of hand, safed the mini-gun. "You'all will want to talk the captain, I think."

Faith put her hands down, turned around to look at the water, studying the surface, trying to find a swimming vampire. She looked back at Fornel and shook her head. "One got away, he was last seen swimming that way." She pointed towards the next dock.

Fornel said, "I'll call the Coast Guard to look for him."

The Chief looked disgusted, "What you'all want with the knee-deep Navy when ya got the real thang right here?"

"Right now I trust the Coasties a whole hell of a lot more'n I trust you."

Faith said, "It's a waste of time anyway, we ain't gonna find him in the water, he'll have found someplace to get ashore by now, unless he drowned. He's probably wandering around the classified areas of the Navy Yard."

Fornel looked irritated, "Damn, I bet you're right." He turned to a junior agent and ordered, "Call the security office and get search teams set up for the yard, see if they want our help, coordinate if needed."

"Hey Fornel!" said Faith, "how'd ya know to come here?"

"Gibbs called me, so let's go downstairs in this thing and find him. He's probably got pissed-off sailors ready to plug him full of holes, too, his personality being so winning."

The Chief looked pained, "_Downstairs_? Did you say _down_ the fucking_ stairs_? It's _belowdecks_ you ignorant civilians, and you all stay right where you are until an officer invites you aboard." He turned away muttering, "Fuckin fibbies."

Gibbs and DiNozzo, along with captain who looked as if he'd just finished eating a lemon, came up out of the hatch behind the sail. Two pairs of sailors were carrying the unconscious bodies of Barton and Weaver. The walking wounded followed.

"Agent Lehane," asked Gibbs, "did you catch up with Fejes?"

"I almost had him, until the fucking Navy threatened to shoot me full holes with a godamned mini-gun," Faith said with a scorching glare to the Master-at-Arms.

The Master-at-Arms said, "It warn't loaded, not in port. I wouldn't take the chance on actually killing you, but I wanted, and I still want, to check your authorizations, there somethin' fishy 'bout this whole mess; I mean, Fejes a terrorist? Nah. A liberty hound and an incredible fuckup, _that's_ what I'd believe."

Faith scowled, "Well, no matter what the fuckin' Navy thinks, we want him bad, but the fucker got away, he's probably in the Navy Yard, going through the classified stores. The Security Office is supposed to be organizing a search party."

Gibbs and DiNozzo shook their heads mournfully, "Oh great," said Gibbs.

"While I was held up here by the Navy, I saw Dawn, that is Agent Summers, parked over yonder, she got out and is checking around in those stacks. Maybe she'll have better luck than me."

"Let's hope, but she needs backup."

"I'll follow her in a minute, but first, I gotta question," said Faith, "Back there in the sub, when the chief told the cook to grab me, why'd he call me a 'lobster'?"

Most of the sailors, who up to then had been idly standing by, listening intently, immediately remembered they had more important things to do elsewhere. The Captain looked embarrassed. The FBI agents looked just as puzzled as Faith. DiNozzo coughed to cover up his nervousness. He said, "Well, that's just a term sailors use for women, it's not bad or anything, it's meant to be friendly."

"Go on DiNozzo, give me the rest before I hurt you."

"Ah, it seems that lobsters have most of their meat in the tail, so..."

"So the chief was saying I have a fat ass?"

"No, no, it's similar to the way men affectionately call women 'broads'."

"Affectionately? DiNozzo, 'broad' is an insult. And so is fucking 'lobster' when you use it that way."

"But it's meant to be sociable, kind, buddy-buddy; seriously, real men _like_ broads, a lot – of course I've never used either term myself, and I never would, it's not me," he added rapidly, while backing away from Faith.

"DiNozzo!" said Gibbs, "I think you'd better shut up before you lose something important."

"Right boss!"

* * *

Faith said, "I think, Mr. President, that the next part is better told by Dawn Summers."

He picked up his phone and said, "Charlie, show in Agent Summers please."

A moment later the door opened and Dawn walked in. "This is so cool!" she said, "I was too young to vote for you Mr. President, but if I could've, I would've voted for you!"

He smiled generously. "Thank you Dawn, I appreciate that. Perhaps in the next election you'll feel the same?"

"Oh yes, absolutely. Well, maybe not so completely absolutely anymore, but I'll still vote for you because I hate all the other candidates so much more than you."

The President laughed. "Well, not such a ringing endorsement, but I'll take it anyway."

"Sorry sir, but you know, with the way things have been going, and the horrible way the other party has been acting... Well, I don't need to tell you, do I?"

"Not really. Would you have a seat? There's coffee and snacks, if Faith left any. We can get more if you want, the White House kitchen always makes more than we can eat."

"Try these chocolate things Dawnie, they're very yummy. Andrew would have an orgasm if he could taste these," said Faith.

"Thanks for the imagery," said Dawn.

"So," said the President, accepting another cup of coffee from Faith, "Ms Summers, you are supposed to be a Special Agent of the NOAA, if I understand correctly?"

"Oh, er, I guess. I did attend FLETC, so I at least know how to load my gun, and I know enough to be able to hit what I shoot at most of the time. But I don't, yet, have the specialty training that NOAA agents get beyond FLETC. And of course, my appointment is, well, informal at best. But Agent Finn assured me that it is actually real, that my name is on the NOAA employment rolls, including pay and benefits. But, it'll end when the case it over," she said wistfully.

"Do I understand that you'd like to remain an NOAA Special Agent?"

She lit up with a big smile, "Do you think it could happen? I mean, when I arrested those guys for shooting at Navy Seals it gave me a real charge, it would have felt the same if they'd been the furry kind of seal, maybe even better, since that kind of seal can't shoot back."

"I see. I can't promise you anything, but I will look into it and see if it's possible. It all depends on just how, or if, Riley Finn acquired the authority to use those badges, and of course whether or not NOAA has the funding for another agent."

He looked at both women and said, "I can reassure you both that we will not file charges against either of you for falsely claiming to be a Federal Agent; although this is a huge gray area, it _was_ a legitimate operation run under the auspices of the Pentagon – or it will be as soon as we finish the paperwork." After a pause for coffee, he continued, "Now, the reason I invited you in, Dawn, is because Agent Lehane has filled me in on the, er, incident, up to the point where the vampire Rejes escaped from the USS Hampton."

Dawn turned to Faith in shock, "You told him about vampires? The President of the United States knows about vampires now! And he _believed_ you?"

Faith said, "Settle down Dawn, he already knew. Our Pres is a very smart man, when you tell your story, don't underestimate him, and he's sitting right there, glaring at you."

Dawn swiftly turned back to the President, but he was smiling graciously.

"Will you begin your part of this story now?"

"Yes, Mr. President."

* * *

Dawn held her gun firmly, in the FLETC approved fashion with two hands, arms straight, as she silently and carefully stepped between towering stacks of pallets full of Navy stuff. She had no idea of what was stored all around her, she sincerely hoped it wasn't anything that would explode if she missed her shot. She had seen the vampire that Faith was chasing disappear between the stacks, right around here somewhere. There were bright lights high up on poles, but they were spaced far apart, making the shadows deep, it was hard to see everything in front of her. But she persevered, anxious to help catch the wayward vamp.

She saw movement, a large shadow slipping into the shadow of some kind of machinery. "STOP!" she shouted, "or I'll shoot! Come out where we can see you!" There wasn't anyone else with her, but she didn't see any reason to advertise that. She suddenly recognized that her weapon was not a vampire killer so she switched her gun to her left hand, and reached into her jacket for a holy-water pistol. Now she felt a little safer. Right up until she saw a creature come out of the shadow. All she saw was the outline, the dark shape of something incredibly huge. It was the shape of a man, but did men come nine feet tall? She backpedaled frantically, shouting, "STOP! STOP! STOP!" She squirted her water gun at it. Was there an effect? Maybe a little, certainly not enough to stop whatever it was. She felt like she'd been fishing for trout and found a shark on her hook, a shark that was rapidly closing the distance. It was not a feeling conducive to peace and harmony.

"Hey little sweet pea," the giant said softly, "some demonic overlord must really like me to have such a pretty little morsel fall into within grasping range of my claws. Now, you gotta choice, either put out for me, an if yer good, you might live. Otherwise, I'll fuck you bloody and kill yer ass."

Dawn tried to back up more, but she was up against a fence, she glared angrily at the very large manlike demon. "I'll kill you," she whispered, being far too frightened to get any volume. She dropped her water pistol and grabbed her Sig-Sauer, and in one smooth motion pulled it up and emptied the clip into the monster's chest. She had to duck in order to dodge her ricocheting bullets, as the demon's chest turned out to be armored.

But then she saw something move behind the giant man – something that really shouldn't have been there.

"The shell of the Key shall not be harmed," intoned Illyria, appearing out of the shadows, leaping, her arms reaching to enclose the creature's neck.

"Wait, don't kill..." said Dawn urgently.

SNAP went several bones in his neck, he slumped, dead, to the ground.

"Damn!" said Dawn.

Illyeria, curious but unemotional, said, "Why would you feel remorse for the likes of that?"

"Not remorse, I wanted information."

"Ah, you missed the chance to torture him, I understand now."

Dawn shook her head as she tried unsuccessfully to think of a way to convince Illyria that torture was not her goal.

"Illyria, do you sense a vampire somewhere near here? We need to catch him, catch him, not dust him. You can help us interrogate him, if you'd like."

Illyria smiled faintly. "I would like that very much. Be quiet while I let my senses extend outward." She stood absolutely still, her head cocked at an angle, listening, feeling the night, purposely breathing in air to taste the smells. She held her arm out and rotated about a quarter turn. "There, that direction, about thirty feet."

"Th, th, thirty feet?" Dawn quietly squeaked. "That's really close," she whispered.

"Less than thirty feet, twenty feet now, he's walking towards us."

Dawn holstered her Sig-Sauer and scrabble on the ground for her watergun, she found it, in her nervousness she held it like she'd been trained to hold a gun, two hands, straight arms. She shook it to make sure it still had water. The vampire rushed headlong towards Dawn, she shot it with holy water, he started smoking but didn't slow his charge until Illyeria stepped into his path. The vampire crashed into the chest of the lessor god, falling to the ground, looking up at Illyria with fear and intimidation. Illyria dropped to the ground, slamming her knees onto the vampire's chest, then turned the stunned vamp over. Dawn handed her the super-strong set of cuffs and manacles, then bent down to administer the tranquilizer. She sighed a huge sigh of relief. "Thanks Illyria, I'm glad you were here.

Illyria smiled faintly. "It is my life's work now."

"Huh? Life's work?"

"Keeping you alive, that's what I do now."

"Okay, that's good, I guess."

"Better than dying, yes?"

"I'd better call Faith over here. Let's move the vamp so people can get to me without tripping over whatever the hell that thing was. I want to keep it hidden from the FBI and the Navy."

"I'll take care of it," said Illyria, picking up the nine foot demon and walking off. "You can call Faith and the others now."

A minute later she was surrounded by the FBI and NCIS and Faith, all drawn to her by the shots fired. She received a combination of congratulations and warnings to be careful and never do that again in the future. It quite pissed her off.

"Faith," she said, dragging the slayer to the side where they wouldn't be overheard, "Illyria showed up, and she killed an insanely large Demon, man-shaped, but it was nine feet tall. She carried it off. But when we interrogate these vamps, we need to ask about the giant demon."

"Got it."

* * *

Dawn smiled tenuously, "I didn't really accomplish much, Mr. President. I mean, if it wasn't for Illyria I'd be dead, and she caught the vampire."

"I do wonder why you were wandering around alone in those stacks. Didn't that go against your FLETC training? Not waiting for backup is one of the more common ways rookie cops get themselves killed."

"I know, I know! But I thought it was just the one vampire. With my experience I expected to be able to distract it with my holy-water pistol, or maybe kneecap it with my gun, then dispatch it with the stake hidden up my sleeve. Don't forget, sir, the other side of this operation was to prevent the vampire from interacting with other agencies or any military people, all of whom would be at a serious disadvantage if they tried to interview an unexpectedly real vampire. I was really quite surprised when a nine-foot tall demon came stalking out of the shadows."

"Okay, but next time you go after a vampire, wait for a slayer, promise?"

"Yes Mr. President, I've learned my lesson."

"But don't sell yourself short. Just because you are not a vampire slayer, doesn't mean that your specialized skills aren't useful in the supernatural fight. I know your language skills helped bring the interrogation to a successful close, and I don't know anybody else who knows the languages you know. But one thing worries me greatly, who, or what is this Illyria creature?"

"Oh, yeah, that's a tough one," said Faith.

Dawn said, "Yeah, she's sort of a fallen god. Today we would say lesser god, but in her day she was a major god. She was trapped for unimaginable eons of time, then released by some misguided worshipers. Bringing her back ended up killing one of our friends, a scientist, interested in portal physics of all things. But now she is Illyria, although she can bring up the personality of Dr. Winifred Burkle, but it's just a shell of her, not the real Fred."

"Can you elaborate?"

"Hmmm, to tell the truth, sir, we don't know that much about her either. We know that she is a _very_ powerful creature, perhaps the most powerful of the few ancient creatures that still walk the earth. But her power is but a fraction of what it was long, long ago. If she were vengeful, she could wreak havoc on much of the earth. But she is not vengeful, she is loyal, a good friend, a little unpredictable, very irritating, extremely irritating. She has this tendency to refer to everyone and everything as 'muck', she says things like_ 'when your people were but the muck between my toes...'_ which doesn't lend itself to making friends too readily. She sees some sort of kindred spirit in me, and manages to protect me when I foolishly jump in with both feet, and that's cool. I don't think you should meet her, though.

"If it came down to the U. S. vs. Illyria, or the world vs. Illyria, I think she'd win, or possibly it would be close. But as far as any of us can tell, she has no such ambition, she is very aware that she is long past her day in the sun, and is content to observe us in her extremely old age. We are after all, her infinitely great grandchildren, although she will not acknowledge that."

"Huh, I didn't realize..." said the President. "I'll have to think on this."

Faith asked, "Do you want to invite Agent Gibbs to describe the end of our little saga? Sir."

"Good idea." He picked up the phone and asked Charlie to bring Gibbs in.

A few moments later, Charlie introduced Gibbs. "Good afternoon, Mr. President," he said.

"Good afternoon Special Agent Gibbs. Although we've never met, I feel like I know you since I've read so many of your reports, very entertaining they are."

"Sir? _You_ read _my_ reports? But I'm just one agent among thousands."

"Well, not all of them, not even most I'm sure. But the more important cases that have implications far beyond ordinary cases."

"I see sir," Gibbs replied, still being stiffly formal, betraying the fact that he was nervous at meeting his Commander in chief.

"Okay," said the President, settling into his couch, facing all three agents on the other couch, "Agents Lehane and Summers have both brought me up to speed concerning the cluster-fuck in New London, including chasing the three vampires off the sub." Gibbs was startled when he mentioned vampires, but he said nothing. Dawn was startled when he said 'cluster-fuck', but was also silent.

"Truly, that was a magnificent mess, and I don't know who should be the most culpable. Luckily for you, we're gonna try and sweep the whole thing under the rug, as I agree with Admiral Fitzsimmons that no good could come from having any of this supernatural crap come out in public. So now, if you, Agent Gibbs, would bring me up to speed on the interrogation of the vampires, the discovery of the sabotage, and the end of this unholy mess, I would be – not pleased exactly – but possibly satisfied."

"Yes sir, it went like this..."

TBC


End file.
